Branding
by Princess Angel Rose
Summary: Because if you had to be branded, you might as well choose your own mark.


**A/N: Okay, I hate writing author's notes, but I feel this story needs one.**

**If you've been reading my fanfiction for a while, you may know I used to have a PotC chapter story up, that has since been taken down. If you don't know, it's about Will and Elizabeth having a daughter, who they send with Jack for a reason that had yet to be revealed. I'm thinking of giving it another shot, and since I have been thinking about it so much lately, this sort-of prequel kind of came up. And this is all assuming that nothing past Curse of the Black Pearl happened.**

**Also, Jack seems a little out-of-character. Maybe it's just because he's a difficult character to write anyway, but I like to think raising a child, even if she's not his own, would change him some, and a few other things that would come out in the chapter story, if I rewrite it.**

**So if you're interested in more, put me on your author alert OR put this story on author alert. While I will not be continuing it, I will briefly add a chapter to say that the other story is up.**

**Enjoy!**

Wide hazel eyes peered over the dirty mattress, inches away from closed eyes set in a face that was equally soiled.

"Psst."

Silence filled the room as soon as her whisper faded. Slightly more loudly, she hissed again.

"Psst!"

This time, he replied with a loud snore. Sarah coughed as her eyes screwed shut at the smell. When that passed, she rolled her eyes.

"Jack!"

It wasn't exactly loud, just a normal speaking tone, but in the stillness of three a.m., it seemed like a cannon fire.

"Wot?" he asked as he bounced out of bed. Sarah smiled at her success.

Matter-of-factly, with only a trace of childish indulgence lining her tone, she stated, "It's me birthday, Jack."

Jack looked more alert at this statement, an almost concerned crease on his face. Or as close to "alert and concerned" as Jack ever got.

"I told that bloody watchman…"

"Jack. It's not quite that time yet."

Hearing this he lay back down and covered his head with a pillow.

"Then back to bed!"

"Jack," she continued when he appeared to be falling back to sleep. "I know what I want as my gift."

The pirate captain grunted incoherently before mumbling, "We'll get it when we make port."

"Jack," Sarah groaned, yanking the pillow off of him and hitting him with it. He still refused to move. Sighing, she blurted out her purpose for being in his room so early.

"I'm ready for my tattoo."

Jack sprang up as quickly as if Gibbs had told him the Pearl was under attack.

"Your wot?"

"Jack…I'm thirteen now. I think—"

"As do I, luv," he said, his tone making it clear (to her anyway) that he was trying to talk his way out of this one. "But if you get a tattoo, your mother'll have me head, and I won't be much for thinkin' any more, will I?"

"Honestly, Jack, you're not really much for thinking now."

Jack flopped back down on the bed without another word. Sarah groaned.

"Jack, I'm getting it done today in Tortuga, one way or another, so if you won't help…I guess I'll just show it to you when I get back on the ship tonight."

With that, she turned to leave.

"Wait," Jack slurred, hauling himself up. "Luv…once this thing you want done is done, it cannot be undone…no matter how much you may wish to undo it. Savvy?"

"Aye," she agreed.

He glanced at her arms folded over her chest in determination, the raised pink skin curving away from him. Gently, he took her hand in his and examined the scarred flesh more closely.

"Still hurt?"

He saw her response in her eyes before she opened her mouth."

"Never did."

He nodded, thinking back to the day he had gotten his own P branded to his arm. He had been well over twelve at the time, and the sizzling sound had echoed in his ears. He had gritted his teeth to keep from screaming.

But his hadn't hurt either.

Perhaps that would be what made her mother the angriest: that this P was just a part of her, like every other scar she earned. But if you're going to be branded, you should at least get to choose your own mark.

"Go back to bed. I've got another hour 'fore I've got to do any thinkin' 't'all. Then we'll talk about what it'll look like. Just no monkeys." Under his breath, he mumbled, "Bloody, undead monkeys."

With a grin, Sarah scurried back to her cabin, already knowing what Jack was just beginning to figure out.

When it was done, it would look like his.

**(If you liked it and did not read the author's note at the beginning, go back and do. You'll be glad you did...I think.)**


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